


Bat Fight!

by Glitterpig



Category: What We Do in the Shadows (2014)
Genre: F/F, M/M, Secret Marriage, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 16:05:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5462696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glitterpig/pseuds/Glitterpig
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vampires don’t much care for werewolves or vice versa, but everyone in Wellington agrees that Stu is not half bad. Victoria likes Stu, Stu is nice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bat Fight!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wishfulclicking](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wishfulclicking/gifts).



Times have changed since the the seventeen-hundreds, but — as Priscilla often reminds Victoria — pedophiles haven't. And thank goodness too, because the afterlife is much easier when your food comes straight to you.

Sure being stuck in a teenage body seems like hell for many a vampire, but Victoria feels well pleased to be eternally youthful, especially when luring supper. All she has to do is stand at the corner at the ice cream shop, wearing cute babydoll dresses and plaits in their hair and there you have it.

A man approaches them from the alley, and at first Victoria thinks they've succeeded in luring a pedo, but when he steps out of the shadows they see it's Stu.

Vampires don't much care for werewolves or vice versa, but everyone in Wellington agrees that Stu is not half bad. Victoria likes Stu, Stu is nice.

"Hi there," Stu says, nodding to them both.

"Hi," says Priscilla, wiggling her fingers in a small wave.

"Where are you going, Stu?" asks Victoria. He isn't with his pack, which is unusual for a werewolf.

"Just off to visit the guys," he says. His voice is so pleasant and quiet they have to lean in to hear him. "Nick's throwing a small party."

Victoria adjusts her glasses. It's hard to get the right prescription when you're limited by the shops you're invited into, but this pair isn't bad. "What's the party for?"

"Nick didn't say. Would you like to join?"

Which is how they end up in a gaggle of seven vampires and assorted wolves at the door of the house on the hill. Nick still doesn't have a place of his own and often crashes at the guys' run-down houseshare, even though she heard he'd been kicked out by Deacon and the rest after poor Peter's murder...and it's possible Victoria knows far too much about the goings on of those four. On the whole, she and Priscilla keep their distance from such shenanigans, but she finds the guys pretty funny if she's honest. They're something of outcasts in the vampire community — hilarious, faily outcasts. 

Tonight's drama doesn't disappoint. 

"What's all this then?" she asks.

A handwritten sign scribbled on A4 has been attached to the door with cellotape. The sign reads _Wedding Celebration_.

"Not certain. We've been out here for ten minutes," one of the wolves tells them. "We don't enter uninvited either, but out of politeness you'll understand."

There is a chorus of agreement from all wolves assembled. Priscilla and Victoria share a look.

There comes a crashing noise from within the house then, and a loud banging and squeaking like two bats are going at each other's throats.

They all peer in the grubby window but all Victoria can see is the empty staircase.

A voice yells from upstairs, "Bat fight!" and there comes another loud crash, like a table collapsing.

"Not again," Priscilla sighs. "I swear, it's like children."

Stu knocks quietly a few times at the door, and silence abruptly falls. He knocks again, a little more forcefully, and a voice calls, "Police?"

"No, it's your mates," the pack leader yells.

"Ah, friends!" It's Viago who emerges onto the upstairs landing, calling, "Coming! Sorry!"

He hurries down the steps, smoothing the ruff of his shirt, and swings the door wide. His expression is pleased, if a little frantic. "Hello friends," he says, clasping his hands. "Party canceled I'm afraid."

"Who got married?" Priscilla asks.

Viago's eyes dart to the door. He groans and puts a hand over his eyes, as if embarrassed. "Oh no, the sign. I forgot to take down Nick's sign." He gingerly peels the paper off of the door, and sighs.

As he opens his mouth to elaborate, the sound of crashing upstairs continues with renewed vigor, and there is a particularly piercing screech. Viago winces.

"That's Nick, by the sound of it." He leans in and whispers, "Getting his ass kicked by Deacon. This time he deserves it, we've had a bit of a situation I'm afraid."

"What kind of situation?" asks the pack leader.

Viago looks uncertainly over his shoulder but then swings the door wider. "Oh, you might as well come in. Please, enter." He sweeps his arm expansively. "I invite you."

He leads them upstairs, and when they reach the kitchen, they come upon a scene of utter chaos. Light fixtures are knocked askew, cups are strewn every which way, the sink is nearly overflowing with bloody dishes, and the kitchen table is in pieces. All the vampires give the shards of wood a wide berth — it would be disastrous, not to mention embarrassing, to accidentally stake oneself on a table leg.

"Visitors!" Viago sings out cheerfully, as if there aren't two hissing bats smacking each other with their wings. "Everyone, stop your fighting, and let's sit down for a nice cup of tea and a chat."

Vladislav, who's scowling at the scene from the corner, grabs a fallen broom and jabs one of the bats with precision mid-flight. The bat drops like a rock to the tile floor and morphs into the rumpled form of Nick, who jumps to his feet, straightening his red jacket and smoothing back his hair.

"Your husband's insane," he says, pointing at Vladislav while trying to ward off the second bat's attack. "He's always hated me. Hated my jacket, hated my sense of style, and now this. I was happy for you but he thinks I was trying to sabotage your love."

"Apologies, Nick," Vlad says in his thick accent, and roughly grabs the other, still-circling bat by a wing. When it shifts into human form, that leaves him clasping hands with Deacon, who looks royally pissed off.

"Happy for us?" Deacon hisses at Nick incredulously. He's missing a shoe.

Nick's eyes look glossy with unshed tears. "Yeah, happy. Love is a beautiful thing. At least I'm vampire enough to admit I care for you both. You're my mates."

"Well telling everyone all willy-nilly is not a way to show it," Deacon says. "Now the whole of Wellington will be knocking down our doors asking when the babies are coming."

"I only told some mates at the club!" Nick says, then pauses doubtfully as if trying to recall the events of the night. "And some interested ladies on the bus. And the man at the chip shop. But he's basically a friend, isn't he? We go there all the time, he has a right to know!"

"Nick is a bit of a blabbermouth," Viago stage whispers to the girls.

It's at this point that they all seem to finally notice the group watching their flatmate drama. Vlad licks his fangs and nods to them. "Stu, ladies. Wolves."

Meanwhile, Nick steps aside to stand next to Stu. "Hey Stu. You alright?"

"Yeah," Stu says, nodding. "You alright?"

"Yeah." Nick nods back.

"Good."

"How's work?"

Stu nods more. "Good. Computers and stuff. And we had barbecue for lunch last week, it was good."

Victoria tunes them out and looks to Vlad, who she's always liked rather a lot, and says, "Well, congratulations are in order then. I would never have guessed it. How long has it been?"

"Eh," Vlad shrugs and looks cautiously at Deacon, and seems to count in his head. "Two—" 

Deacon says, "—Eight—"

Vlad continues, "Fifteen—"

They both shrug and look at one another. "Fifty?"

"Yes, fifty years."

"Give or take.

"Yes, give or take."

Vlad meets their goggling eyes, looking a little on the spot. "Vat? He's a good dancer."

"But you're only sixteen," Victoria says, because she, Priscilla, and Vlad have a sort of teenage bond. This comment breaks the tension a little, and there are awkward laughs all around.

There comes a buzzing of the door then. It goes on for long seconds, insistent.

"Oh no," Viago whispers. "Police!"

"Sh," Vlad says with a finger to his lips. "Sh!"

"This is a disaster," Deacon growls, and storms out of the room to answer the door.

The group stands in silence as they listen to the door creak open below, followed by a woman's voice saying, "Police. How are you tonight sir?"

"Good," growls Deacon.

Viago shakes his head.

"Now see here, you can't make such a ruckus every night," the policewoman says. "It's simply not neighborly. We've had a dozen complaints tonight alone. I'm afraid we'll have to take another look around."

"You will not notice a thing is strange," Deacon says.

"Pardon?"

"Everything is just peachy," Deacon tells them more forcefully.

"Well we'll have to judge that for ourselves, now won't we? Lead us upstairs, sir."

Footsteps echo up the stairs, and a kindly-faced police officer followed by her partner, who looks quite dazed, enter the kitchen. The kitchen is crowded with people and creatures shoulder to shoulder, but the woman doesn't seem to find the scene strange in the slightest. She toes a broken plate on the floor. "Now what's all this then? Having a party I see."

Nick steps forward. "Yes, a wedding celebration."

"Nick, shut up!"

The woman's eyes light up. "Ah, a wedding celebration! Well, congratulations to the lucky bride and groom."

"Groom and groom," Nick corrects, and beams at them both.

"Ah! My apologies," says the woman. "Congratulations, grooms!" 

"Thank you," Vlad says, and when he nudges him, Deacon also mutters, "Thank you."

"Would you like some cake?" Victoria asks, offering the police officers a book lying on the counter.

"Don't mind if I do," says the guy, and tears off a piece of the cover and puts it in his mouth. He chews for a moments and then licks his fingers. "Lovely frosting, that."

The policewoman fixes them all with a steady look. "Alright then, since today's a special day we'll let you off with another warning. And I will say you've fixed the place up a bit since our last visit."

"I installed a smoke alarm," Vlad tells them, pride clear in his voice as he walks them out.

"Holy hell," mutters a wolf when the voices are gone.

"Hey!" says the pack leader. "What did I tell you about language?"

"We're werewolves," the guy repeats by rote, "Not swearwolves."

"Exactly. Now let's go to the clubs to celebrate. As that nice woman said, this is a day of celebration."

"Big Kumara?" Deacon asks hopefully.

It's agreed upon unanimously. 

They all head out of the house then, down the rickety staircase and into the night. The stars are bright overhead and spirits high. They troop down to the bus stop like a bunch of rag-tag misfits, the vamps and the werewolves falling into step beside each other, and pedestrians avoiding them.

The werewolves are talking jovially about the rugby match they went to and Nick is saying kindly to Deacon, "So what's a little wrestling among friends, right?" Deacon growls but keeps the peace. Priscilla nudges Victoria when Nick takes Stu's arm.

This is all...rather nice. Priscilla was right after all, times are changing. Where there used to be a sort of feud between different factions of supernatural creatures, differences don't seem to be such a big deal anymore. When you've reached over two hundred years old, Victoria muses, nothing really bothers you anymore.

"Please, enter," says the giant bodyguard at Big Kumara, and swings the door to the club wide. "Happy nuptials, guys."

"Good grief," Vlad says. "Did you tell all of New Zealand?"

They enter one by one, Viago looking into the middle distance with a sappy smile on his face, as if to say, _Sometimes life hands you lemons, and sometimes it hands you...well, true love._

Victoria and Priscilla enter last. They have lived a long time, and have miles to go yet, caught in the web of eternal afterlife. Till death do us part, and all that. It suits them just fine.

 


End file.
